


love like fools

by vitale



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blatant Overuse of Italics, Getting Together, M/M, Mean Girls References, Minor Hunk/Shay, This is kinda self-indulgent, background shallura - Freeform, i love lance, idk where i'm going with these tags, keith is oblivious as hell, mostly keith-centric, shiro and allura are keith's Supportive Friends™, sorry for any oocness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9981803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitale/pseuds/vitale
Summary: “Fuck that,” Keith snaps, startling Shiro into a sitting position. “Fuckthat. I'm going to tell him to tone it the fuck down or so help me it’s going to take more than the people attending his stupid parties to shield him from me when I get my fucking hands on him.”In the corner of his eye, Shiro looks downright terrified. Keith finds it oddly gratifying.“That’s my boy,” Allura croons with an approving grin. “Show that asshole what you’re made of.”Keith aggressively reaches for the last spring roll and promises himself he’ll address the Alvarez issue before the end of the week. He figures he owes himself at least that much.(Or, the one where Keith has ninety-nine problems, and he's pretty sure the douchebag above him who thinks it's okay to blare shitty EDM at 11 PM when everyone (read: Keith) is trying to sleep is the root of at least half of them.)





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> hello.......................
> 
> i haven't written a fic in so long i feel like i don't know how to fic anymore but here we go. i don't know how many chapters this is going to be but it Will get finished i hate nothing more than not finishing things
> 
> i know there are like 19352 college aus in this fandom but what can i say i'm a very unoriginal person ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrkIfuECK5s)!

 

 

Keith hates a lot of things in this world.

He hates morning classes, for one. Hates waking up at ass o'clock in the morning to attend a mandatory class he has no interest in. He hates his part-time job at the café and his aunt Seoyeon who keeps asking him to visit her as though she ever cared about Keith before his parents died. He hates Noah, his group project partner, who keeps finding all sorts of excuses to duck out of their meetings and dump all the work on Keith. (Except he doesn't really hate Noah, because they're kind of friends, and Keith doesn't actually mind doing all the work as long as Noah keeps buying him coffee as an apology.)

But all things considered, Keith doesn't think he hates anything as much as he hates the guy living directly above him.

Keith has to admit that he’d been rather lucky in that regard until now. The people on his floor generally keep noise at a minimum, and the guy who used to occupy the room above his last semester was so quiet Keith hardly ever knew he was there. But word has it he had to drop out due to unforeseen circumstances, and because Keith’s luck is terrible and inevitably runs out in all aspects of his life, they’d reassigned the room to what was probably the _biggest party animal on campus._

Keith's seen him around before, six feet of sun-kissed skin and gangly limbs and obnoxious (albeit, if Keith is being honest, quite pretty) smiles. The guy is popular with the general crowd for throwing _‘savage’_ (Allura’s words) parties every week, and between that and Noah’s firm insistence that _Lance Alvarez is a fuckboy don’t trust his pretty face_ when the name once popped up in a conversation, suffice it to say that Keith wasn’t a huge fan of the guy to begin with. (Keith suspects Noah only thinks that because he’s never been invited to his parties, but Keith can relate to being left out of social activities, although he would sooner die than attend one of Alvarez’s parties anyway.)

Keith isn’t quite sure what he's done in his past life to deserve this, but he doesn’t think anything could justify having the guy move into the room right above his.

If it was up to Keith, dorm parties would be banned altogether and students would be urged to focus on their damn education because, for God’s sake, dorms are for _sleeping_. But Keith lives in a world where he rarely gets his way if ever, and the RAs are more lax about enforcing dorm rules than Keith thinks is reasonable for an institution supposed to determine what its people will be doing with the rest of their lives.

Allura wasn’t lying, Alvarez’s parties were truly _savage_. Mostly to Keith’s ears and already messed up sleep schedule. It hasn’t been a month and Keith already feels on the verge of a tremendous mental breakdown. He can’t for the life of him understand how someone can have the energy or dedication to throw a full-on party every other day, and he’s not interested in understanding the rationale behind it as much as he just wants it to _stop._

Throw in the fact that the building's soundproofing is positively awful and that the guy seems to have a thing for obnoxiously loud EDM, and you get a sleep-deprived Keith out for blood.

 

☆

 

 

“I hate him. I don't even know him and I fucking hate him. _God.”_

Shiro, ever-supportive, flashes Keith a drunken smile that looks more like a grimace.

They're sprawled out on Allura's living room floor, surrounded by half a dozen empty beer cans and their combined weight in Chinese takeout. Allura is reading some ridiculously thick book about extraterrestrial life and Shiro is trying to sip from his can with his head on her lap, which would be a sight to behold if Keith was in a better mood to appreciate it. Keith almost wants him to spill beer on her white dress just to see Allura’s reaction. Allura’s explosive outbursts have always been weirdly cathartic.  
  
“You should talk to him,” Allura offers wisely without looking up from her book. “Better that than punching him in the face when you reach your breaking point, which you seem to be approaching at an alarmingly fast rate.”

“Keith is more of a stabbing person,” Shiro muses idly, frowning at the book in Allura’s hands. “He used to carry a knife around with him at all times in middle school.”

Keith levels him with an unimpressed glare.

“Really, Shiro? Unhelpful.”

“That's why I'm the helpful friend,” Allura says cheerily, affectionately petting Shiro’s hair. “Come on, Keith, you can't go on like this. Your dark circles haven’t been this bad since... Anyway. Just talk to him and tell him to keep it down.”

“Keith actually hates confrontation. Doesn't seem like it, but—”

“Okay, _Shiro,_ that’s enough.”

Keith is supremely irritated. Not at his friend, who's obviously had one too many judging by the way he's failing to stop his hiccups and trying to cuddle Allura at a painfully awkward angle, but at the _universe_ in general. He has a Biochemistry test in two days that he hasn’t prepared nearly enough for, his manager asked him to pick up a shift on his day off and he can't get out of it without getting chewed out because they had to find someone to cover for him twice last month, and he’s sporting a massive headache that feels like someone is repeatedly sticking an ice pick into his left eye.

And then of course, to top it all off, there’s the nightmare of _Lance fucking Alvarez._

“Fuck that,” Keith snaps, startling Shiro into a sitting position. “ _Fuck_ that. I'm going to tell him to tone it the fuck down or so help me it’s going to take more than the people attending his stupid parties to shield him from me when I get my fucking hands on him.”

In the corner of his eye, Shiro looks downright terrified. Keith finds it oddly gratifying.

“That’s my boy,” Allura croons with an approving grin. “Show that asshole what you’re made of.”

Keith aggressively reaches for the last spring roll and promises himself he’ll address the Alvarez issue before the end of the week. He figures he owes himself at least that much.

 

☆

 

  
Keith ends up cornering him on his way out of the dorm a few days later.

He's running on two hours of sleep, which is ridiculous even for him, and ironically it’s not even his dormmate-slash-nemesis’ fault. In all his clumsy glory, he'd accidentally spilled half a bottle of iced tea on his rented textbook last night and spent three hours trying to salvage it before admitting defeat and having a meltdown at his desk. His morning coffee tasted like dishwater and he’s antsy and irritable and he doesn’t feel like talking to anyone, but Keith isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth when fate provides him with a golden opportunity in Alvarez and him leaving the dorm at the same time.

Keith quickly decides he’s in no mood to beat around the bush and steps directly in front of the guy as he walks out of the building a few seconds after him.

 “... Hi?” The guy blinks down at Keith. Keith blinks back, because he's never really seen his face up close and _wow, okay, this guy is hot as all hell_. Keith has to make a valiant effort not to stare.

Keith shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Hey. Er, I live in the room under you? I’m Keith.” He pauses briefly before clearing his throat and barreling on, “Look, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay...” The guy trails off, looking understandably confused. His lost expression would be kind of cute, if Keith was into obnoxious dormmates who keep him up at night. (Keith reminds himself that he's _not_ into obnoxious dormmates who keep him up at night in any shape or form.)

“Please stop with the parties,” Keith blurts out without further preamble.

In the back of his mind, Keith knows he could have phrased that a lot better, but he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t have the energy or patience to walk on eggshells around the guy, and tact has never been Keith’s strong suit anyway. Keith meets the other's gaze head-on as he processes what he said, forcing himself not to fidget. 

Predictably, the guy’s expression turns sour, mouth twisting into a scowl. Keith vaguely wonders if they’re going to start yelling. Despite what Shiro has to say about it, Keith can use a good fight to blow off some steam when he’s this on edge, but the timing is less than ideal. Keith just wants to get this over with as quickly as possible.

The guy folds his arms defensively across his chest. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Keith enunciates stiffly, barely stopping himself from throwing his hands up in the air. “Is that I can’t sleep because you keep having parties right above my head. Can't you like, do it somewhere else? Or save it for the weekends?”

The guy’s now looking at him like Keith’s just sprouted a second head, as though he can’t believe Keith is calling him out on what he probably considers the typical college lifestyle. Keith sighs long-sufferingly and pinches the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep his cool. He’s not going to lose his temper before he at least _tries_ to have a civilized conversation. Shiro wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

That resolution lasts right up until the guy recovers from his shock and says in the most condescending way possible, “Dude, why do you hate fun? We're in _college.”_

Keith grits his teeth and crosses his arms in an attempt to hold in the overwhelming urge to throw a punch.

“Exactly. I'm in college to work my ass off and get a degree so that I can get on with my life and potentially achieve a semblance of economic stability, which is not going to happen if _you_ keep me up all night. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since the day you moved in. My friend said my dark circles haven't been this bad since _my parents died.”_

Oops.

_Shit._

Keith should really watch his mouth when he's barely had enough sleep to function.

The flabbergasted expression on the guy’s face is a small satisfaction that Keith unabashedly revels in. A couple of familiar faces shoot them curious glances as they walk past them on their way out, and Keith does his best to ignore them and stand his ground.

He almost flinches when the guy suddenly leans in to inspect his face, dark blue eyes disturbingly close to Keith’s, and actually has the good grace to look slightly abashed. Damn, Keith must really look like shit.

“Oh.” His face is incredibly expressive, Keith remarks. It’s like he’s wearing his emotions on his sleeve without a shred of self-consciousness whatsoever. There's surprise, slight confusion, a hint of guilt, and perhaps even something akin to curiosity for a reason Keith can’t fathom.

“Yeah?” Keith prompts impatiently.

“I guess I didn't realize the soundproofing was this bad? Sorry, man.”

The first part doesn’t sound all that convincing, but Keith is going to take what he can get.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith mutters, shrugging awkwardly. He wasn’t expecting the guy to actually apologize. It feels weirdly anticlimactic. “Please take this into account,” he finishes lamely.

The guy nods slowly, eyes fixed on a point over Keith’s shoulder. At the very least, he’s not completely brushing him off, which is a start. Keith hopes his unfortunate rant serves to guilt-trip him into having mercy on him.

Perhaps he isn’t the class A jerk Keith had pegged him for after all.

“I’m Lance, by the way.”

Keith does a double take.

“...Okay. Lance.” The name sounds tentative on his tongue. Of course, Keith doesn’t tell him that he already knew his name, or that he’s been complaining about him to anyone willing to listen for the past month. “I’m Keith.”

“You said that before.”

There’s the ghost of a cheeky smile on his— _Lance’s_ —face. Keith is both inexplicably charmed and thoroughly irritated.

“Did I.”

“Yeah.”

They engage in a brief staring contest that, to Keith’s slight surprise, Lance breaks first in favor of looking down at his shoes.

There’s a stretch of awkward silence after that, until Keith remembers that he’s on a tight schedule and should really get going. He has to come back to drop off his groceries before heading off to work, and he wants to stop by Noah’s room to borrow his textbook before he can go to the library. It’s a nice day, probably the nicest it’s been in a while, and Keith isn’t thrilled about spending it at work, but it’s not like he would have gotten out of bed for longer than five minutes if he hadn’t been working.

“I should go.”

Lance looks up from where he was staring intensely at his sneakers and nods in acknowledgement.

“Yeah, me too. Well... Bye.”

With that, he gives Keith a half-hearted wave and walks off in the opposite direction.

Keith runs a hand through his sloppy ponytail ( _shit,_ he hopes it doesn’t look as messy as it feels) and allows himself a moment to think about what just happened.

For the most part, Keith thinks that could have gone a lot worse. Largely uncomfortable, as was to be expected, but Keith is no stranger to awkward situations. Lance turned out to be surprisingly accommodating, something Keith admittedly has a hard time reconciling with his initial opinion of the guy (which may or may not mean that he was at least partially wrong about him, but Keith will probably take that admission to his grave). Keith is surprised he even took him seriously, let alone accepted to take his words into consideration, and they didn’t _technically_ fight despite Keith’s outburst. Really, it’s a miracle Keith didn’t let his bad mood get the best of him. Shiro would be proud of his display of self-control.

Now Keith just hopes the results are worth the effort.

 

 


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Like, no offense, Keith, but it's a little funny when you think about it. It sounds like a scene straight out of a 90s romcom.” 
> 
> “My life is a cosmic joke,” Keith agrees goodnaturedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's some vague keith/oc in this chapter but it's one-sided and nothing actually happens
> 
> enjoy!

 

Keith is questioning every decision he's made in the last few days that has led him to this very moment in time.

He paces in front of the door, lifts his hand to knock, chickens out at the last minute and lowers it again. He almost rakes a hand through his hair in frustration before remembering how long he spent trying to get it into some semblance of order. This has been going on for a full five minutes, and Keith would worry about how ridiculous he may look to an outsider if he wasn't fucking _scared shitless_.

Keith is pretty sure it's not supposed to be this hard to ask someone out. People do it all the time, right? It shouldn’t feel like he's waiting to jump off a cliff into an abyss. Or the seventh circle of hell. Keith still thinks the flowers are a bit much, but Allura insisted it would make a good impression, and Keith trusts Allura to make the right decisions for him more than he ever trusted himself.

Well, he’s not all that sure about that now.

Keith has no idea how he let Shiro and Allura convince him that this was a good idea. _Fuck_ , Keith can hardly hold a normal conversation without breaking out in a cold sweat. He's pretty sure he _physically_ can't ask someone out. Keith really doesn’t know why he ever thought he could do this.

For what it's worth, Keith doesn't think Josh would let him down too hard. That's part of the reason Keith is doing this in the first place. Josh is hands down one of the nicest people Keith's met since starting college. He's kind and funny and smart and he sits next to Keith in Microbiology when he could sit next to anyone else, because Josh seems to have more friends in that class alone than Keith's had in his entire life. Which, granted, sounds a little pathetic because this isn't high school and Keith isn't some kind of Cady Heron, but the point is that Keith actually feels _comfortable_ around Josh, which is more than he can say about some people he's known for much longer.

Strange as it may seem, Josh seems to genuinely enjoy Keith's company as well, and he even called him _funny_ once. Unironically. Even Shiro and Allura don't think Keith is funny and they're more likely to see the good in him than anyone else. They get along surprisingly well considering how different they are, and honestly, Josh is probably one of Keith’s favorite people in the world.

In a rare stroke of luck, Keith recently found out that Josh is into guys, and so when Allura started her yearly Get Keith A Date For Valentine's Day mission, Josh was the first (and only) person to come to mind.

It's not really a crush, though. Keith's crushes have the propensity to be rather... _Intense_. Keith never does anything halfway, and when he truly likes someone, it tends to be all-consuming and exhausting. (It also tends to end very badly, so Keith is glad he doesn’t have a _crush_ on Josh. He would hate to ruin their growing friendship over a stupid, potentially one-sided infatuation.)

This is more like, a minor crush. Tiny crush. Baby crush? Keith likes spending time with Josh, and he wouldn't mind spending more time with Josh, and he would go as far as to say he wouldn't mind _kissing_ Josh (hey, Josh is cute and Keith is gay as fuck), but... that’s it. It's not the whole goo-goo-eyes-and-butterflies-in-your-stomach sort of deal. Keith suspects it's largely because Josh is virtually the only person other than Allura and Shiro he can stand being around for longer than twenty minutes at a time.

Mostly, Keith just wants Allura off his back.

He doesn’t want a repeat of last year, aka him third-wheeling on an unofficial date because his friends decided they couldn’t just leave him alone and dragged him along to dinner only for it to turn into a date anyway. Because they're disgustingly in love and can't help it. And Keith is happy for them but he absolutely, one hundred percent never wants to go through that again. No one knows how excruciating it is to sit with your friends and pretend not to notice them eye fucking from across the table while under the impression that they are being _subtle_. Keith doesn't want to feel so uncomfortable in Shiro and Allura's presence ever again.

Keith doesn't even care about Valentine's Day, but it's a big deal for Allura. And for some reason she thinks it is for Keith too and he just doesn't want to admit it because he can't get land himself a date. Which is a little insulting, when you think about it, but Keith doesn’t blame her. He knows she means well and is worried about him because she thinks Keith is _lonely_ or whatever. (Keith can’t even deny that he _is_ , but he doesn’t think it’s the kind of loneliness Allura is thinking of.)

So, Keith might have exaggerated his attraction to Josh a bit so that his friends don't think he's asking out his mostly-platonic friend to get them off his case. Keith thinks a date with Josh would be pretty fun anyway. They like a lot of the same things, and Keith hasn't given much thought to where they would go or what they would do, but he doesn’t think he would dislike it too much in any case.

And, if it came down to that, Keith thinks Josh would agree to pretend it never happened and let Keith mourn his dignity in peace, and so Keith figured he didn't have much to lose.

He’s seriously reconsidering that thought process at the moment.

It's too late to back out, though. Keith doesn't want to deal with Shiro and Allura's disappointed-slash-judgmental faces when he tells them he couldn't even bring himself to knock on the damn door. He tries to remember the pep talk he gave himself before coming up, but it does little to ease his frayed nerves. Keith thinks he might want to get this over with before he ends up actually working himself into a panic attack in the middle of the hallway.

He clutches the flowers in his hand and sucks in a deep breath.

Just as he's about to knock, the door swings open and Keith is met with a flurry of messy auburn hair and very toned, very _naked_ abs. Keith could definitely have used some forewarning.

“I'm gonna see if—Keith?”

Caught off guard, Keith swallows down his panic and scrambles for words. “Hey—”

“Josh? Who's it?”

Before Keith can get a word out, a tall, slender girl with cascading waves of curly blonde hair appears in the doorway next to Josh. She looks somewhat familiar, and Keith vaguely recalls sharing a class with her last semester. The most distinct things about her is that she's gorgeous, for one, and also very noticeably _half-naked_. She loops an arm around Josh’s waist and leans her head on his shoulder, and Josh barely even blinks. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots.

Keith's stomach plummets to his feet.

“Keith?" Josh repeats, entirely oblivious to Keith’s inner turmoil.

They're both looking at him expectantly, and then their eyes fall on the flowers in his hand and they go utterly still. Keith thinks that if there ever was a time in his life for the ground to open up and swallow him into the pits of hell, it would be now.

_“Keith?_ ”

Keith struggles to swallow around the giant lump in his throat. _Fuck, fuck, fuck—_ “Um, it's, I'm—”

“I can't believe you got the wrong room again.”

Keith stops dead in his tracks and slowly turns around.

Lance raises a sassy brow from where he's leaning against his own doorway across from Josh’s, hands casually tucked into his back pockets, looking for all the world like this is the most normal situation he’s encountered all day.

It takes several seconds for Keith to process what's going on, and another few seconds for him to school his features into an expression that doesn't completely give it away. He turns back to Josh and avoids looking at him straight in the eyes, hoping the sheer bemusement and mortification aren’t evident on his face.

“Um. Sorry, Josh, I—Got the wrong room?”

It comes out sounding like a question. Thankfully, no one is paying attention enough to notice, which is fortunate because contrary to popular belief Keith's always been a terrible liar.

Josh throws his head back and barks out a relieved laugh. "Oh, boy, I thought for a second—Never mind.” Of course, because the situation can only get worse from there, Josh casts an interested glance at Lance, then looks back at Keith and the fucking flowers in his hand. “I didn't know, _you and_ _Lance_.”

Keith stares back blankly. The girl—Irma? Nyma?—whispers something in Josh’s ear, and he seems to remember something and shifts his gaze back to Lance.

“Hey, Lance, you got some milk? Please say yes.”

“Ah, nope. Sorry.”

Josh lets out a groan. Keith is doing his best to look composed and nonchalant, but he’s not sure he’s fooling anyone. He feels like he's going to be sick, ears ringing and heart hammering in his throat, and he prays that he doesn’t end up throwing up on Josh’s doormat. Keith’s life has always been an endless series of _what the fucks_ , but this is too much even for him.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” 

Lance’s voice snaps Keith back to the present.

Unfortunately, it also does Josh. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and gives Keith a devilish grin; then, because he's a little shit, he leans in dramatically—which is useless because Lance can probably still hear him—and stage-whispers, “Don’t make him wait, Keithy boy.”

Nyma giggles happily behind him.

Keith can’t believe his life turned into a fucking sitcom in the space of sixty seconds.

Lance coughs and steps to the side, giving Keith a meaningful look. Keith understands that they have no choice but to go along with it. He strides up to Lance and hesitates before letting himself into his room, focusing on his surroundings—the room is a _fucking mess_ —to keep from thinking about the royally fucked up situation at hand and how excruciatingly uncomfortable the impending conversation is indubitably going to be.

Lance mumbles something that Keith doesn’t catch, and then he's sliding the door shut behind them without waiting for a response and turning to face Keith.

It’s the second awkward silence between them this month. If Keith thought the first one was unpleasant, it was nothing compared to this.

Eventually, Lance clears his throat with the subtlety of a pneumatic drill and says, “Well, that was wild.”

Keith bristles. "Oh, shut up.”

Keith should probably not snap at the person who just saved him from what promised to be one of the most humiliating experiences of his life, but he can't help it. There's not much bite to his words though, and Lance must pick up on it because he just throws him a pitying look that makes Keith want to punch him in the nose.

Though right now, Keith mostly wants to punch _himself_ in the nose.

God, he’s such a goddamn idiot.

Lance is staring at him silently, face uncharacteristically unreadable. Keith hasn't seen, or heard, or _thought_ about him since their confrontation two weeks ago. Against all odds, Lance had actually kept his word and stopped throwing parties during the week. It’s nothing short of a miracle. If Keith had known talking to him would prove to be so effective, he would have done so much sooner. Keith thinks he should probably thank him at some point.

When he’s not so mortified he wants to become one with the floor.

“Nice flowers,” Lance finally drawls. Keith would think he’s making fun of him if it wasn’t obvious Lance was grasping for something to say and coming up short.

“You can have them,” Keith says morosely. The lilacs seem to taunt him from where he’s gripping the bouquet hard enough to break the stems. Keith childishly refuses to look at them. He hesitates for a second and asks, “How much did you hear?”

Lance scratches the back of his neck, wincing comically. “Huh, most of it? My door was half open. You were, uh, just standing there for ten minutes. I saw the flowers, and then I heard everything, and, well. It was easy to put two and two together.”

Keith wants to bury his face in his hands and pretend he’s somewhere else, preferably all the way across the continent and miles away from everyone in the building.

They lapse back into silence. Keith expects Lance to usher him out any second, and he’s ready to wrap himself up in a blanket with the pint of Ben & Jerry’s he bought specifically in case things didn’t work out in his favor and drown in self-pity for the next six hours. Maybe watch a Nicholas Sparks movie for the full experience. Listen to the _Cheer tf up!!_ playlist Allura made him some time ago when she got tired of Keith listening to the same ‘ _emo shit’_ since high school.

But Lance, who apparently has a knack for surprising Keith, looks at him for a moment longer and declares solemnly, “I'm gonna make hot cocoa.”

Keith is too taken aback to argue, and by the time he recovers, Lance is already shuffling around his room, pulling two coffee mugs out of nowhere and digging through his mini-fridge.

Somehow, Keith finds himself sitting in the chair by Lance's desk while Lance fumbles with the broken handle of his microwave. The whole situation should feel more surreal than it does, but Keith figures he has other things to worry about at the moment. Sitting in a stranger’s room, a stranger Keith swore he hated with every fiber of his being until two weeks ago no less, is negligible next to everything going on in his head right now. Keith can only freak out about so many things at a time.

Lance hums a tune that sounds suspiciously like a song from that boy band Allura has tacky posters of all over her room and sets down twin Star Wars mugs filled to the brim with steaming cocoa on his desk. Keith himself is more of a tea person, but he has to admit that it smells surprisingly good.

“You ok?” Lance asks tentatively as he flops down on his bed. His voice is laced with uncertainty and he looks like he thinks Keith might crack if jostled the wrong way. All in all, it’s a very familiar look. Keith’s skin prickles under his gaze.

Instead of answering, Keith says, “I thought you didn't have milk.”

Lance pauses with the mug halfway to his mouth and smiles sheepishly, eyes bright with amusement. “That was the last of it.”

“I'm fine,” Keith mutters after a few beats.

And he is, for the most part. He’s not exactly _upset_ about Josh apparently having a girlfriend he’s never known about. Maybe a little disappointed, but it’s only understandable, and he’ll get over it sooner than later. It isn’t Keith’s first rodeo in that department after all.

The epic loss of face, though, is another story altogether.

As if reading his mind, Lance suddenly asks, “You’re not like, heartbroken or something? Are you going to start crying? Should I get you a tissue?”

Keith’s hackles rise. "I'm not—”

It takes a few seconds for Keith to realize Lance is cracking a joke. It doesn’t sound like he’s mocking him or trying to rile him up, though, only like he’s trying really hard to diffuse the tension in the room. It's lame and kind of rude and inappropriate considering they're practically strangers, but it’s better than the pitying side-glances. Keith can work with that.

“I'm not _heartbroken_ ,” Keith says honestly. “I'm just really fucking embarrassed right now.”

“Mhm.”

Keith stares at the red lightsaber on his mug.

“Any chance you can unsee what happened?” He quips, only half-joking.

Lance pretends to think about it, lips pursed in false contemplation.

“Well, I was told I’m pretty good at denying the obvious and conveniently ignoring reality, so. I can try.”

Keith’s mouth twitches up at the corner.

Lance’s phone buzzes loudly and its owner fishes it out of his pocket, frowning at it. For lack of anything better to do, Keith looks around the room for the second time. The dark blue curtains have tiny colored planets all over them, and the purple bed sheets are covered with stars of varying sizes and shapes. The bedside lamp is in the shape of the moon. It all makes for a very unearthly picture.

“You like space?” He asks aloud before he can stop himself.

Lance flushes visibly. Keith feels a small flare of satisfaction, because if Lance gets to see him embarrassed, it’s only fair that Keith does, too, albeit in a highly different context. (It’s totally not because Lance is kind of cute when he blushes. That’s the _last_ thing on Keith’s mind right now.)

“Yeah, I guess. Space is cool.”

Keith hums noncommittally. For some reason, he find himself adding, “My friend is obsessed with it. She’s an astronomy major.”

Lance perks up at that, looking interested, but doesn’t ask him to elaborate. Keith gets a weird mental image of Lance and Allura bonding over their shared fascination with galaxies and constellations and the many secrets of the universe, though Keith is positive Lance can’t be as much of a space nerd as Allura is. _He_ probably doesn’t believe in aliens. Lance and him having mutual friends is a disturbing concept Keith has no desire to dwell on.

“Are you friends with Josh?” Keith suddenly thinks to ask.

Lance looks like he’s contemplating the question. It strikes Keith as odd before he remembers that Lance is a blooming social butterfly and it’s probably not as easy for him to differentiate friends from acquaintances as it is for people like Keith, who can count the people he can call _friends_ on the fingers of one hand.

“Not really. He comes to my parties sometimes. Well, he used to. I don’t really see him anymore.”

Keith holds back a sigh of relief.

Another silence rolls over the room, but this one isn’t nearly as uncomfortable. Keith stares at the contents of his cup and, for once in his life, tries to look on the bright side.

Keith knows, logically, that the whole thing didn’t play out nearly as bad as it could have. The entitled side of him keeps insisting that Josh should have _told him_ he had someone, but Keith nips that line of thought in the bud as soon as it arises. It’s not like Josh _ow_ _es_ him anything. It’s just that it would have avoided this entire fiasco and Keith almost dying of embarrassment in the process.

God, Keith doesn’t even want to imagine what would have happened if Lance hadn’t been there. He would have made a complete fool of himself and ended up avoiding Josh forever, successfully ruining his friendship with one of the few people he actually gives a shit about. Keith isn’t sure he would have been able to live with it.

Really, Keith knows he should be grateful things turned out the way they did.

And it’s all thanks to Lance.

Keith won’t be running out of reasons to thank Lance anytime soon.

“So, you like guys?” Lance asks casually, abruptly jolting him out of his thoughts. A bit _too_ casually. _Ah_. If Keith has to deal with Lance being fucking homophobic on top of everything else, he's actually going to give up and jump out of Lance's third-story window.

“Yes,” Keith sighs wearily. “Is that a problem?”

Lance looks like he doesn’t understand what Keith is getting at, before realization dawns on him and he almost leaps out of his bed. “What? No! I'm just trying to make conversation, jeez. Are you always so prickly? I’m not out to get you, man.”

Keith makes a point of looking unconvinced.

Lance makes an exasperated noise in response.

“C'mon, drink your cocoa before it gets cold.”

Keith has a lot to say about Lance’s patronizing tone, but he bites his tongue and, instead, attempts to clear his spinning head.

He’s fine. Keith can hardly think of a worse scenario for his first time asking someone out, but then again, it’s _Keith_ , so he feels like he shouldn’t be too surprised. He's probably going to laugh about this in a few months, and it'll make for a good story to tell when he’s drunk off his ass at whatever social gatherings his friends drag him to. Ultimately, he _didn’t_ make a fool of himself, at least not in front of anyone who matters, and hopefully Josh will never have to know about any of it. It isn’t going to become awkward with Josh, which is what Keith wanted to avoid most of all, and something tells Keith that Lance won’t go blabbing about it. Keith isn't one to have faith in people he barely knows, but he wants to trust his instincts on that one.

He’s _fine._

So Keith nods and takes a sip.

 

☆

 

“I can't believe you didn’t know he had a girlfriend.” 

“What do you guys even talk about?”

Keith studiously ignores them both, until their patented Come On Keith Talk To Us looks get under his skin and he drops his pen on his textbook, sighing in annoyance.

“I don't know. We don't talk about our _love lives._ He never mentioned anyone so I just assumed he was single.”

Keith ducks his head to avoid Allura’s judgmental gaze.

“You're okay, though, right?” Shiro asks anxiously, for perhaps the fiftieth time since Keith told them what happened. Allura makes a show of rolling her eyes and muttering something about babying Keith, but Keith doesn't miss the flicker of concern in her eyes when she looks at him again.

“ _Yes._ I told you, I’m fine.”

“Are you really?”

Keith shoots him a muted glare.

“Josh’s my friend. I thought we—I was wrong, whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

Shiro still looks entirely unconvinced, but he doesn’t push. Allura must believe him, because her eyes soften around the edges and she gives him a private smile, the kind that says both _Shiro is being stupid_ and _I’m here if you want to talk._ It makes Keith feel infinitely better than any words she could have said.

“You even bought him _flowers_ ,” she laments in a lighter tone. “What a waste.”

Keith cringes at the memory of the lilacs he left in a certain person’s room. “Don't remind me.”

“It was _romantic_ , Keith. I bet his girlfriend doesn't buy him flowers.”

“Technically, I don’t know if she's his girlfriend,” Keith points out idly.

“You _don't?_ ” Allura shrieks.

“How the hell was I supposed to ask that?” Keith intones flatly.

Allura opens her mouth to argue, then seems to come to the conclusion that Keith is right and promptly clamps it shut.

“She probably is, though. Ugh.”

“His loss,” Shiro says, and it would sound terribly corny and forced from anyone else, but Shiro manages to make it sound so earnest and matter-of-fact Keith can’t even tell him to knock it off. He’s infinitely grateful to the library’s shitty lighting for concealing the embarrassing blush creeping up his neck. _Fucking Shiro._

“Can I just point out the sheer irony of _Lance_ of all people saving your ass?” Allura mumbles around a mouthful of apple pie (Keith is pretty sure food isn’t allowed in the building). “Like, what were the chances?”

Shiro coughs pointedly in an obvious attempt to stop her from rubbing salt into the wounds. Of course, it’s completely lost on Allura.

“Like, no offense, Keith, but it's a little funny when you think about it. It sounds like a scene straight out of a 90s romcom.”

“My life is a cosmic joke,” Keith agrees goodnaturedly.

Shiro gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

“Anyway, Keith, this means you still don't have a date for VD,” Allura pipes in faux-casually, voice saccharine, and Keith instantly feels his walls come up.

“I don’t need one.”

“Oh, come on. You could get that app I told you about—”

“Allura, I'm not getting a _dating app_.”

“There are a lot of nice guys on there looking for a date—”

“I quite frankly couldn’t give less of a fuck—”

Shiro sighs long-sufferingly and turns back to his books, effortlessly tuning out the now sadly familiar argument. Keith feels like Shiro of all people should back him up on this because he should know better than anyone that Keith joining a dating app is a surefire recipe for disaster, but Keith stopped expecting Shiro to have his back in a squabble with Allura a long time ago. She’s terrifying, so Keith can kind of understand, but it still feels like treason at times like these.

“That guy, Lance,” Allura hums thoughtfully after a few minutes of heated back-and-forth ending with Allura’s (temporary) capitulation. Keith has always admired Allura’s ability to pick her battles. “He seems a lot nicer than you thought he was. Kind of redeemed himself, uh?”

Keith makes a reluctant noise of agreement. “He’s not a total dick, I guess.”

“He made you hot cocoa when you were heartbroken and let you stay in his room for two hours after that. I think that warrants a little more than _not a total dick._ ”

“I wasn’t heartbroken _._ ”

“You're missing the point.”

“ _Fine_ , whatever, he’s a nice guy. I was surprised at how decent he was about the whole thing. He deserves all the brownie points. Is that what you want me to say?”

Keith is too busy scowling at the wall to notice the cryptic look his friends exchange.

“Maybe you two could be friends. You seem to get along fairly well.”

Keith levels Shiro with a look that he hopes fully conveys just how stupid an idea that is.

“We don’t _get along_.”

“You must get along if you didn’t bolt out of his room and actually stayed with him for two hours.”

“It was a one-time thing. A coincidence. We’ll probably never speak again.”

Shiro gives Keith one of his meaningful looks that Keith absolutely _despises_ , like he knows something Keith doesn’t, and then shrugs emphatically. “I’m just saying.”

Keith narrows his eyes at him, but before he can say anything, Allura slams her hands down on the table with a loud bang (they’re in a fucking _library, for Christ’s sake_ ) and stretches in her chair, glaring disdainfully at the stack of books in front of her.

“Hurry up and get your pretend study session over with, boys, I want more pie.”

Keith can only oblige with a sigh.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you're wondering josh isn't named after josh keaton, i forgot his name was josh until my friend pointed it out (i thought it was jasper... lmao)
> 
> thanks for reading this far <3


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith vaguely wonders if it's a nickname or if someone actually thought it was a good idea to name their kid _Pidge_.
> 
> Before he can think better of it, he finds himself asking, “Your girlfriend?”
> 
> Lance spits out his water. Keith wrinkles his nose in disgust and wishes he had kept his mouth shut.
> 
> “ _What the fuck_ —No. _God, no_. She’s our friend. Totally platonic friend. You couldn’t find more platonic if you tried—” 
> 
> “I get it.”
> 
> Lance grumbles something unintelligible under his breath and slumps in his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry this took so long, i’ve been dealing with a lot of shit lately and school is a royal pain in the ass. it’s not very long, but hopefully the next chapter will come a lot sooner
> 
> ps: i use she/her pronouns for pidge, because that’s what she seems to identify as in the show. i know there’s a Discourse around it and from what i’ve observed most people prefer to use they/them, which is perfectly fine, but pidge is a girl in in this fic. idk i just felt like it needed a disclaimer

 

 

Keith doesn’t know if he’s subconsciously started noticing Lance more now that he’s interacted with the guy a couple of times, or if by some strange coincidence he’s actually started running into him twice as frequently as before.

Because suddenly, a few days after the Josh disaster, Lance is _everywhere_.

For some obscure reason—also known as The Universe Hates Keith And Is Determined To Make His Life Suck—Keith has been bumping into Lance at every turn over the past couple of weeks. It’s like the floodgates have suddenly opened and now Keith can’t go a day without catching sight of him, whether it be at the dorm, on the street, in random places across campus or at the grocery store down the block. Keith has the distinct impression that fate or whatever higher power is up there is playing games with him and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.

Keith, on the other hand, has been steadfastly avoiding him. It's not like he still has it in for Lance—Keith would be hard-pressed to still do after the recent events, he’s not _that_ much of an ungrateful asshole—it's just, the humiliation is still too fresh in his mind and seeing Lance reminds him of the incident and makes him replay it in his head over and over again, which, thanks but no thanks, Keith would just like to forget all about it.

It’s proving hard to pretend not to notice Lance, though, when Lance actually starts getting out of his way to make his presence known to Keith.

Keith is on his way to get coffee when it happens for the first time. Now, for once, Keith’s had a pretty decent night’s sleep, and he’s in a _good mood_. He’s finished all his assignments for the next week, and there’s really nothing quite like the sense of accomplishment that comes with getting shit done. Noah actually showed up to their study session yesterday and brought Keith’s favorite Thai food, and his aunt Seoyeon hasn’t reached out to Keith in almost three weeks, which is a new record. Keith can only hope that it lasts. 

All that to say, Keith is in a pretty okay mood this morning, which hasn’t happened in days (if not weeks), and he really, _really_ doesn’t want to have it spoiled before at least noon.

That is, until he walks into a small coffee shop a few blocks away from Allura’s apartment and spots Lance sitting alone at a table in the corner.

Keith’s knee-jerk reaction is to be irrationally annoyed. Deep down, he knows it’s stupid and petty, not to mention awfully self-absorbed because this is a public space and Lance is _allowed_ to be here, but Keith doesn’t want to think about it rationally when it’s the fifth time in as many days that he comes across Lance and is forcefully reminded of the circumstances surrounding the last time they’ve spoken. 

He really can't catch a break.

Keith makes a swift decision and quickly picks a table out of Lance’s line of sight, praying to every deity he can think of that he doesn’t turn around. Ignoring him has worked out pretty well so far, and it’s not like they’re friends now and Keith is obliged to acknowledge his presence. They’re barely even acquaintances, and their encounters can hardly be qualified as friendly. Keith just wanted to drink his damn coffee in peace without dwelling on what happened less than a week ago. Was that too much to _ask_?

And naturally, because Keith is busy silently seething, mood positively ruined, he doesn’t see the object of his thoughts get up from his booth and walk towards his table until the sound of footsteps and someone clearing their throat makes him look up with a start.

“Hi.”

And there is _Lance Alvarez_ , hovering over Keith with his stupid eyes and stupid hair and a lazy smile slowly spreading across his (stupid) face.

Keith makes a point not to stammer. “Oh. Hey.”

“Can I?” Lance asks, gesturing vaguely to the chair across from Keith.

The resounding _‘no’_ is on the tip of Keith’s tongue, but Lance looks like he’s only asking to be polite, and Keith doesn’t want to start an argument in a crowded coffee shop at barely past nine o’clock in the morning. (That's what he tells himself anyway, because the other explanation is that he's that easily swayed by Lance’s annoyingly bright blue eyes, and it’s way too early for Keith to consider that possibility.) “...Sure.”

Keith groans internally as Lance flops down into the chair and makes himself comfortable. “What…” _So much for not stammering_. “What are you doing here?”

Lance gives him an odd look. “Getting breakfast?”

“It’s pretty far from campus,” Keith points out, possibly a little more sharply than the situation calls for.

Lance doesn’t seem to pick up on it, or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care. “My friend works here. See the big guy with the bandana? That’s Hunk.”

Keith makes a vague noise of acknowledgement.

“Did you ever come here before? I’ve never seen you around.”

“No,” Keith says shortly, vaguely wondering why Lance thinks he would have noticed him among the sea of customers in the past. If Lance notices Keith’s curt answers, he doesn’t show it, grinning crookedly instead with a jerk of his head towards the counter.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, buddy, because Hunk makes the absolute best coffee in the _world._ Like, the best you’ll ever have in your life—Ah, speak of the devil.”

Keith wisely chooses to ignore Lance casually calling him _buddy_ and follows his gaze. As if summoned, Bandana Guy is jogging towards them, carrying a tray with two glasses of water and sporting a toothy smile that looks like it could single-handedly melt the Arctic ice cap. Keith doesn’t think it should be legal to be so perky so early in the morning.

“Hunk, this is Keith, we live in the same dorm,” Lance says as soon as Hunk reaches their table (rather unnecessarily, if you ask Keith), not really looking at either of them.

A jolt of surprise flashes across Hunk’s face as he looks back and forth between the two of them, a slight frown creasing his forehead, before his gaze lingers on Keith for a few seconds and his eyes flicker with… Recognition? _Huh_?

Lance and Hunk seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes. Lance looks increasingly agitated, and Hunk looks like he can’t believe whatever Lance is trying to tell him. Keith has no idea what’s going on, but the whole ordeal is making him feel more out of place by the second.

Finally, Hunk clears his throat and flicks his gaze to Keith, visibly taking him in. Then the guy _beams_ at him, all bright and warm, and Keith feels momentarily blinded by it.

“Welcome to Altea’s, Keith. Can I take you order? It’s on the house.”

“What? No, it’s—”

Hunk firmly waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. So, what will you have?”

Keith stares at him, slightly bewildered, until Lance impatiently pushes a menu under his nose, apparently having recovered from whatever was troubling him earlier. “If I may make a suggestion, you should try the blueberry cheesecake. It’s the second reason I come here.”

“Why do I get the feeling I am not the first reason,” Hunk says wryly.

“You know it’s the coffee, but you’re a good third,” Lance chirps cheerily before looking back at Keith. “So, you’ll have the cheesecake?”

Keith shoots him an annoyed look. “I don’t—”

“Do _not_ tell me you don’t like cheesecake.”

“I hate it.”

Lance looks at him like he's just insulted his entire family. Hunk snickers and immediately covers it up with a cough. Keith is glad at least one of them is getting some fun out of this.

“The pumpkin pie, then,” Lance suggests firmly.

“I don’t like pie,” Keith says automatically, mostly for the sake of being contrary.

“Do you _have_ taste buds?”

“Lance, don’t be a dick, let him pick what he wants.” Hunk’s smile is as friendly as it was before, but there’s a gleam in his eyes that reminds Keith rather disturbingly of the look Allura gets when she’s up to something.

Lance pouts petulantly but sits back in his chair and hands the menu over to Keith. Keith scans over it—He’s not all that hungry, but he doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, and if there is such a thing as a college student willing to say no to free food, Keith certainly isn’t it.

“A raspberry and white chocolate scone,” Keith says, automatically going for one of the least expensive items on the list. “And a black Americano, please.”

“Black Americano, really?” Lance makes a face. They both completely ignore him. Keith is starting to really like Hunk.

“Alright.” Hunk grins at Keith again before turning to Lance, his easy smile morphing into a sly smirk. “Your usual?”

“Yup.”

“Did you talk to Pidge? She was complaining about you not calling her back yesterday.”

“Shit! I totally forgot. _Fuck._ ”

Hunk shrugs and leaves on that note, seemingly unmoved by Lance’s panicked antics. Keith racks his brain for something to say to fill the silence he leaves in his wake.

“Ugh, she’s gonna have my balls on a plate,” Lance whines rather pathetically.

Keith vaguely wonders if it's a nickname or if someone actually thought it was a good idea to name their kid _Pidge._

Before he can think better of it, he finds himself asking, “Your girlfriend?”

Lance spits out his water. Keith wrinkles his nose in disgust and wishes he had kept his mouth shut.

“ _What the fuck_ —No. _God_ , _no_. She’s our friend. Totally platonic friend. You couldn’t find more platonic if you tried—”

“I get it.”

Lance grumbles something unintelligible under his breath and slumps in his seat.

A few minutes later, Hunk comes back with their orders and promptly leaves again with a cheerful _“Bon appétit”._ Keith eyes the monstrosity on Lance’s plate cautiously as Lance wastes no time digging his fork into it and shoves a large piece of cheesecake into his mouth, all traces of his previous panic apparently forgotten. _Classy._

“So,” Lance starts. Keith picks at his scone with his fork. He wonders if it would be appropriate to ask Hunk to wrap it up for later. “What’s up?”

“Not much?” Keith drawls eloquently. God, he fucking hates small talk.

Lance is staring at his face in a really unsubtle way, and Keith tries to pretend not to notice him doing it, which just serves to make him feel even more self-conscious. He fidgets in his seat and makes himself meet his eyes.

“You look, uh, better,” Lance explains hurriedly, seeming to realize that he’s been caught staring. “I mean, the dark circles are gone.”

Keith smiles wryly. “Yeah, I can sleep now. All thanks to you.”

Lance flushes slightly and chews on his lip, clearly not picking up on the sarcasm. “Er, you're welcome.”

Keith hides a smile behind his cup and nobly decides not to be a dick.

Apparently, Lance is even more talkative today than every other time they’ve spoken, because he immediately launches into a lengthy ramble about the merits of cheesecake and why it’s the best dessert in the world and everything Keith is missing out on. He’s obviously very passionate about it. Keith isn’t processing half of what he’s saying, but it’s distracting in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant, and Lance doesn’t seem to expect Keith to contribute to the conversation other than well-timed nods and noncommittal humming noises at appropriate intervals.

“Do you have class today?” Lance eventually asks through a full mouth.

“No,” Keith says, then adds after a beat because, _alright_ , Lance has been talking his lungs out for the last fifteen minutes to keep the conversation going, Keith can at least make _some_ effort, “I’m working this afternoon.”

Lance nods pensively and gulps down the rest of his diabetes-inducing drink. Keith takes another sip of his own.

“The coffee’s really good,” he admits, a bit reluctantly. Keith’s mostly been relying on his shitty coffee maker recently, and this essentially tastes like heaven in a cup in comparison.

Lance’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Hah! Told you so. You should start coming here. Bet it’s much better than the coffee where you work.”

Keith narrows his eyes at him. “How do you know where I work?”

Lance’s face goes suspiciously red in seconds. “You said you were working this afternoon. I took a wild guess and assumed you worked in food service.”

Before Keith can think much of it, his phone starts vibrating on the table and _☆☆~Space princess~☆☆_  lights up on the screen in an incoming call. (Keith _really_ needs to stop leaving Allura alone with his phone.)

“It’s my friend. I have to go.”

“Uh-uh,” Lance mumbles, eyeing Keith’s mostly untouched plate. “Can I finish your scone?”

Keith scoffs and gets up, pocketing his phone and waving hesitantly at Hunk who was coincidentally staring at them from the counter. The waiter waves back enthusiastically. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks, man, I never tried these before,” Lance says, eagerly taking a bite of the scone before pausing and wincing exaggeratedly. “Uh, okay, definitely not my favorite.”

“Still better than cheesecake.”

“Hey, now that’s blasphemy.”

Before Keith can respond, they're interrupted by his phone vibrating again. A quick peek at the screen informs him that it’s five to ten, a good twenty minutes past when Keith was supposed to be at Allura's apartment. No wonder she's getting impatient. _Fucking Lance, making him lose track of time._

“Bye,” he greets awkwardly, unsure of what else to say, and promptly turns on his heels.

“See you around, Keith!” Lance calls to his retreating back **.**

_Sounds ominous,_ Keith thinks as he walks out the door into the fresh morning air.

(But he doesn't think he minds as much anymore, as much as he would like to pretend otherwise.)

 

 

**☆**

 

 

 

 

 

( “Stalking isn’t romantic, Lance.”

“Shut _up_ , Pidge, I’m not stalking him. How the hell was I supposed to know he was gonna be there?”

“You harassed Coran into finding out where he works.”

“Coran is friends with his best friend!”

“Leave the man alone, Lance, he’s not your informant.”

“You should’ve seen the way he was making heart eyes at him this morning,” Hunk says, joining his hands and fluttering his eyelashes in what, in Lance’s opinion, is a perfectly absurd and inaccurate imitation of him. “And Keith didn’t give a fuck _._ ”

“I already like this guy,” Pidge cackles gleefully, because it was established a long time ago (by Lance himself) that she’s the actual spawn of Satan.

“You would,” Lance croons, momentarily forgetting that he’s supposed to be defending himself. “He's just—He's so _cute,_ Pidge, and so oblivious—He thought you were my _girlfriend._ ”

_“Ew.”_

“Hey!”

“Lance, I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man alive and the apocalypse could only be averted by us banging.”

“Right back at ya, babe.”

_“Don’t fucking call me that.”_

“Guys,” Hunk cuts in placatingly. “What are you gonna do, Lance?”

Lance frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, about the Keith thing.”

“Do you even have to ask? He’s not gonna do anything and wait for the guy to magically get the hint,” Pidge predicts with a roll of her eyes, and Lance hates how well she knows him because, yes, that’s probably exactly what he’s going to do about it.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Lance grumbles childishly. “What am I even supposed to do? I’ve talked to him like, three times, and I’m pretty sure he hates my guts **.** I’m not going to make an ass of myself and be like, hey, I think you’re really cute and I can’t stop thinking about you. He’d probably laugh right in my face.”

“Thought making an ass of yourself was your specialty,” Pidge chimes in with a shit-eating grin.

“ _Shut up_ , Pidge. Why can’t you be more _supportive_?”

“I am very supportive. I’m just the last person you should come to for romantic advice.”

“Hunk.”

“Uh, I could ask Shay for you?”

Lance groans into his hands. “Please don’t.”

“Aw, Lance, it’s gonna be okay, buddy,” Hunk says comfortingly, throwing an arm around Lance’s shoulders and pulling him into one of his trademark hugs. It does make Lance feel a little better. He likes to call it the _Hunk effect_.

“You don’t need the attention of some pretty boy when you have us,” Pidge nods agreeably, pushing her glasses up her nose and wiggling her eyebrows at Lance. “Especially when you have me.”

“Rude.”

Lance huffs out a laugh. “Thanks, guys. Now, if you don’t mind, we can move on from the fascinating topic of my love life and talk about the fact that Hunk is contemplating asking Shay to move in with him after graduation.”

Pidge immediately whirls on Hunk. “You _what_?”

“ _Lance_ , you traitor, you weren’t supposed to tell _anyone_ —” )

 


End file.
